


Like Gold Dust

by JayJFox



Series: Wars of hearts [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Kevin Day, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Jealous Jeremy Knox, Kevin Day & Neil Josten Friendship, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Past Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayJFox/pseuds/JayJFox
Summary: Jeremy's little crush on Kevin Day is getting out of control when Kevin starts dating Jean Moreau.But it's all perfectly fine. Jeremy and Kevin are friends and Jeremy will be damned if he screws up their friendship for a stupid college crush.OR Jeremy's years-long battle to ignore his own feelings and keep Kevin's friendship.P.S: I accidentally deleted this, so here it is, reuploaded. I did rearrange the chapters from the original version, though.P.P.S: ***You can read this work on its own, however, events featuring Kevin and Jeremy from DayDream (part 1 in the series) are referenced here from Jeremy's POV + Kevin/Jer from North Star). I recommend reading DayDream before this one.***
Relationships: Jean Moreau/Renee Walker, Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Wars of hearts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100240
Kudos: 8





	Like Gold Dust

Jeremy Knox did not do relationships. Not for the reason most assholes didn’t; he simply didn’t have the goddamn time for that. He’d tried, way too many times if he was one to judge, though Laila would probably smack him if he said so. 

Being the Trojans’ captain made dating even a more complex matter. Jeremy had set a no-dating-teammates rule for himself, which in retrospect might not have been his best idea. It would be convenient—same schedule, same practice hours, always close, and most of all, he wouldn’t have to justify his obsessive love for Exy. The latter was exhausting. Maybe the only person who understood how much that sport meant to Jeremy was Kevin Day. Although, even Jeremy had to admit Kevin went a little over the line. 

Jeremy was fine with hook-ups; there wasn’t a shortage of people who’d gladly go for it. It was fine. It was all perfectly fine. 

So, alright. Jeremy was bad at relationships but he was excellent at friendships. Making friends was second nature, as easy as breathing, and God, he loved his friends. The best part—those crazy bastards loved him too. Who needed relationships when he had that?

Jeremy had spent the entire summer trying to help Jean adapt to California and life away from the Nest. The man was a fucking storm cloud, but Jeremy would be damned if he couldn’t deal with that. He could deal with absolutely anything and anyone. 

It was all Kevin’s fault, honestly. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to help Jean Moreau—he was an amazing player, and the Trojans could win the Championship this year with someone like that in their backline. The thought gave Jeremy a little thrill. He’d love nothing more than to lead the Trojans to the trophy in his last year in college. But Jean was a liability. He was difficult, uncooperative, and downright hostile with everyone who wasn’t Kevin Day. 

Yet, Jeremy had agreed to take him in, and more often than not, he suspected his decision had very little to do with Jean’s skillset and everything to do with Jeremy’s high praise for Kevin and his opinion. 

Two weeks before the start of the season, Jeremy sat in the living room in his dorm, pretending he didn’t hear the heavy sighs Jean released every time he looked at the clock on the wall. 

Kevin texted Jeremy regularly, mostly Exy stuff and how-to-deal-with-Jean-Moreau tips. One of the first things Jeremy learned about Jean was that the backliner had a hard time being alone. He also had a hard time sharing a room with another person, or rather no one wanted to risk it and share with him. Jean Moreau looked like he could definitely punch anyone in the face. This was why Jeremy offered him the spare room in his dorm—his spacious, single-bedrooms-privilege dorm. 

Jean let out another loud sigh. 

“Will you stop? Kev will be here any minute now,” Jeremy finally said. 

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Except trying to sigh time into moving faster?”

Jean glared at him. Great. What else was new?

The backliner was obvious when it came to Kevin. Jeremy didn’t pretend to know what was truly going on there, but he knew it was complicated. Jean was a mess around Kevin and Kevin… well, Kevin’s perpetually unbreakable walls chipped a little when Jean was in the same room. It could be everything they’d shared in Evermore—Kevin gave Jeremy pieces of Jean’s life there and he wasn’t that stupid not to put them together and get the bigger picture—but Jeremy wasn’t sure it was just shared tragedy and trauma. He was convinced Moreau had more than friendly feelings for Kevin Day. Not that he blamed him for it; Kevin was gorgeous. Objectively speaking. 

He wasn’t sure about Kevin’s feelings. In fact, he wasn’t even sure Kevin Day liked… anyone. Not in a romantic way at least. He’d slipped once and told Jeremy he was dating Thea Muldani, a truly terrifying choice in all honesty. But it made sense—they had a lot in common.

So, Kevin liked women. 

For the lack of supportive evidence, that was the furthest Jeremy had gone in his ‘guess Kevin Day’s sexuality’ game. Not that he cared, really. He was just curious. 

The knock on the door brought Jean on the edge of the couch, all tensed shoulders and shaky breaths. For someone with such exquisite self-control on the court, he was sure acting like a flustered teenager when Kevin was involved. 

Jeremy opened the door and a smile immediately spread on his entire face. 

“Kevin!” Jeremy caught his shoulder and pulled him in. Kevin smelled like something earthy and musky. It totally suited him. Jeremy let go before the scent soaked into his brain. God, he needed to get laid. “How was your flight?”

“Long. Boring. Why’s everyone so cheery here?” Kevin growled. 

Jeremy chuckled. The damned Foxes. He had never met a bunch who scowled and glared as much as the Foxes did. They were walking, breathing tragedies with a dark sense of humor and fast-impending frown lines that no face cream would ever manage to deal with.

“Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Somehow, Kevin made even frowning endearing. In his grumpy Kevin Day way. 

Jeremy laughed at the face Kevin made and then the look he threw at Jean cut him off. The tension grew in the air. Jean mumbled a “hey” from the couch and Jeremy knew that was his cue to get out. 

“I’ll umm… leave you two to talk. You probably have a lot to catch up on.”

The understatement of the year. Jeremy grabbed his phone off the table and waved it at Kevin in a ‘call me when it’s safe to come back’ gesture. Kevin gave him a small nod. 

Something heavy pressed down Jeremy’s shoulders when he shut the door leaving Kevin and Jean behind. Years ago, when Jeremy didn’t know Kevin personally, he thought of him as this flawless person, a walking manifestation of the perfect Exy player. He looked the part, acted like it on the court and in front of the cameras. Jeremy had admired how put-together Kevin Day looked, how single-laned his mind was, how he had set himself to be the best and didn’t count on his family legacy to get there. He’d worked for it and played like his life was on the court. Jeremy had admired that perfect image for years. Wanted to be like him. 

Then he’d met Kevin Day, and he saw beyond the polished facade, and he admired him even more. He’d survived Evermore, and based on the pieces Jeremy had gathered, that wasn’t a walk in the park. That survival cost scars, fucked up mental health, nightmares and humiliation that Jeremy didn’t even want to think about. For crying out loud, Kevin Day fought through a career-ending injury with the sheer power of his will. 

Jeremy still remembered the Foxes' final against the Ravens. Kevin Day walking on the court, holding the racquet in his left hand, the crowd roaring in response. It was exhilarating. After Kevin hinted his injury hadn’t been an accident, Jeremy’s guts clenched so painfully he thought he might throw up. Watching Kevin face Riko like that… it was the bravest thing he’d ever seen. 

Jeremy sneaked into Laila’s room using his spare key, borrowed a pair of earphones and went for a run. Eleven songs later, his phone buzzed. 

**Kevin [18:34]**

_ Going to the court with J.  _

_ No bloodshed on my court, Day! :) _

**Kevin [18:35]**

_ Can’t promise anything. J’s a little pissy.  _

_ He’s always a little pissy.  _

**Kevin [18:36]**

_ Well, he’s french. It's kinda his thing. _

Jeremy nearly tripped laughing. 

*****

Jeremy woke up in the middle of the night. Again. His anxiety usually flared at the end of the season and gradually faded by the start of the new one. The summers were stretched-out periods of idleness that didn’t work well with Jeremy’s restless mind. He needed to move, to stay in the game, always occupied in training, in the next match, in a new strategy to try on the court. Summers took that away from him. He didn’t remember the last summer he went through without antidepressants. 

He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the small kitchen, quiet as a ghost, hoping he wouldn’t wake up Kevin, who slept on the couch. 

Except Kevin wasn’t on the couch. He leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping a drink that looked suspiciously like whiskey. Jeremy knew Kevin preferred vodka, but that wasn’t a thing he ever had in his dorm. 

“Hey,” Jeremy whispered when he neared Kevin. 

Kevin hummed in response. 

Jeremy wasn’t sure what time Jean and he returned to the dorm. He’d only heard the lock click before sinking back to sleep. Kevin looked like he hadn’t slept at all. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Jeremy said. He kept his voice low. Jean’s door was closed but noise traveled through the doors and walls like they were made of paper. 

Jeremy noticed the bottle on the counter then. He was pretty sure the content was way above the half-line. Now, it barely reached one third. 

“Sorry I drank your whiskey.”

“It’s okay. Since when are you a whiskey fan?”

“Since you have no vodka.”

Jeremy chuckled. “I’ll be more prepared next time. So… do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Jer,” Kevin said, all too sincere and raw and open, it hurt looking at him like that. 

“Did something happen?”

“You could say that.”

“Jean?” Jeremy said carefully. 

Kevin looked at him, nipping at his lower lip, which was… alright, it was too adorable for this time of the night and definitely too much for Jeremy’s current state of mind. Fuck, he really, really needed to get laid. 

“You don’t have to talk about it. But if you need to, I’m here. That’s what friends are for.”

Kevin sloshed the content of his glass and downed the whole drink. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I mean… Okay, this didn’t sound right. I’m bad at… friends. But I think we are. I think you’re my friend. Are you?”

Jeremy nodded with a small smile curling his lips. “Yes, Kev. We’re friends.”

“I don’t… I don’t talk about stuff like that with anyone.”

“Stuff like what?”

“Like Jean. And... well, feelings.”

_ Oh _ . Oh, this was it. This was it. The answer to the question ‘was Kevin Day into men at all’. Jeremy reminded himself that it didn’t matter. Not at all. It was just curiosity. 

“You can talk to me about it.”

Kevin looked at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. “No judgment whatsoever? I mean Jean’s… and I… I mean...”

“Kev…” Jeremy huffed a laugh. “I’m bisexual, okay? Calm down. Even if I weren't, why the hell would I have a problem with that?”

Kevin made a quiet ‘oh’ sound. “Yeah, well. Okay. I don’t know what I’m doing with Jean. I mean, I’m with Thea, we’re good. I think. And then there’s Jean. And fucking locker rooms and... kissing. And I’m a mess. How can I get where I want to be if I’m a mess?”

Was that what they did on the court today, the bastards? Not that Jeremy doubted Kevin got off just thinking about Exy or contemplating an Exy court, but come on, they had a perfectly empty dorm for themselves if that was what they wanted to do. 

Jeremy looked at his face. It was wrecked and miserable, so goddamn miserable, Jeremy wanted to wrap him in a blanket and hold him.  _ How can I get where I want to be if I’m a mess? _ Clearly, this was about Jean and Kevin’s feelings. But Jeremy couldn’t wrap his head around it. Was Kevin struggling with the fact that he felt something for Jean because Jean was complicated or because Jean was a man? Jeremy suspected it was the latter. 

“You’re good enough to get anywhere you want, Kev. I don’t think the kind of mess you’re talking about will screw anything up for you.”

Kevin huffed a low laugh. “Won’t it?”

“Will it screw it up for me?”

Kevin looked at him like Jeremy had thrown a rock at his face. “Jer… I didn’t mean it like… I don’t—”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?”

“You know, that thing when your brain melts?” Jeremy nudged his shoulder. 

“I don’t think it will fuck anything up for you. You’re too good.” Kevin reached for the bottle and poured another drink. 

“Then why do you think different rules apply to you?”

Kevin shook his head. 

“Kev… You’re the best striker in Class I. Everyone knows that. I’m not saying go post makeout pictures with dudes on your Twitter account.” Jeremy thrilled at the sight of the ever unfaltering Kevin Day choking on his drink at that. “I’m just saying, do what you feel. Don’t hold yourself back and be miserable out of fear for something that will never happen. No one will ever hold this against you. You’re Kevin fucking Day.”

Kevin laughed weakly. “Why does everyone feel the need to put a word between my names?”

“Because you’re Kevin  _ fucking  _ Day.”

“You’re impossible when you’re sleepy.”

“Nonsense. I’m a delight. Always.”

Kevin laughed fully at that. Jeremy didn’t think he’d ever heard Kevin laugh before, not like that. The sound was low and full and so alive. It sent a flutter down Jeremy’s back. 

“Why did you say you don’t talk about that with anyone? It’s not like your teammates are… well, you know. There’s Nicky, and Andrew and Neil aren’t exactly subtle considering they’ve made a habit of staring at each other. All. The. Time. Actually, what’s up with that?”

Kevin chuckled and took a long sip. “I don’t even want to get there. I live with them, that’s enough punishment. And I mean… Well, I’m not expecting them to be… mean about it, I guess. But I don’t have anyone to talk about that. Andrew’s idea of talking about feelings is glaring at you until you go away, Neil’s slightly better, and Nicky… Well, let’s say I told him once to stop being a bad influence on Neil cause if he wanted to make Court it would be easier to remain heterosexual. Not my brightest moment.”

Jeremy pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking with laughter. “You did  _ not _ .”

“I so did.”

“God, Kev.”

“Hey, I meant well. I mean… people are assholes, ok?”

“Is that what you’re trying to do now? Remain heterosexual? Cause, I got news for you, darling.”

Kevin nudged Jeremy’s shoulder in a playful rebuke. “Shut up.”

Jeremy finally subdued the waves of laughter. “Hey, if you want to talk about any of this… or anything at all, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

Kevin nodded. 

“Go get some sleep. I’m fine. Really. Just thinking things over,” Kevin said. 

He pressed a hand on the back of Jeremy’s shoulder and pushed him slightly out of the kitchen. It was a strange feeling, knowing someone for so long and never letting them in close enough to  _ really know _ them. The last few months had turned Kevin Day from a closed book with a shiny cover, full of mysteries and secrets, to someone Jeremy could wholeheartedly call a friend. He liked the sound of it. 

He walked back to his bedroom. The warmth of Kevin’s hand on his shoulder spread across his skin like California summer sun, sending small flickers of pleasure in his stomach, and this was ridiculous and… God, Jeremy definitely, seriously needed to get laid.

###  ~~~~~~~

Jeremy watched Jean Moreau clench and unclench his fists for fifteen minutes before the game against the Foxes. It was the first game the Trojans played against the Foxes for the season. 

Jeremy was nervous, there was no denying that and he had all the right reasons to be, but Jean… Jean was never nervous before a game. He walked on the court, threw his best, and a little extra, and that was it. He didn’t celebrate the victories—it was like victories were expected, mandatory even—but damn, did he give the team grief for the losses. As if he wasn’t one of them. 

Maybe he wasn’t. Jeremy was starting to think that Jean Moreau would never be a part of the Trojans. The backliner was too brutal, always found a reason to body check players a little too hard. He played the way he had his entire life, like a Raven. Jeremy knew that it wasn’t entirely his fault but it made no difference when the Trojans avoided him like the plague off-court and Jeremy felt like he was wasting his breath to talk to Jean about fair play. 

But today, Jean Moreau was a ball of nerves and shaky breaths. It had been nearly two months since Kevin’s last visit to California, and Jeremy really didn’t need to dig deep to figure out why Jean was losing his composure. He just hoped this wouldn’t end up with someone bleeding on the court. 

The first half was hell. Jeremy didn’t get it. The Trojans threw themselves in training and none of them had a problem playing full halves by this point. They were better. Better disciplined, better trained. So what if Kevin Day was a fucking marvel on the court? He was one person. 

Jeremy took Jean off the court fifteen minutes before the end of the first half. The backliner was a brute, yes, but he was the best they had. He needed to catch his breath and play the second half if the Trojans wanted to have a decent shot at winning this. 

Kevin and Neil played like a finely-tuned machine. Every pass was perfect, every combination so precisely practiced, it was like they both knew each others’ steps on the court down to an inch. It was infuriating. 

On top of that, they communicated all the time, in French, which was… Well, okay, Kevin speaking French wasn’t exactly helpful for Jeremy to keep his focus in the game. 

The first half ended 8:4, Foxes favor. 

Jean looked like a storm cloud. His grey eyes were dark, wide pupils and furrowed eyebrows. Oh, shit, that looked like a recipe for disaster, and still, still… Jeremy didn’t want to lose against the Foxes. Again. 

“Can you play the whole second half?” Jeremy said. 

“Yes.” Jean didn’t take even a second to think. 

“Alright. You’re in. No bullshit, Jean. I mean it.”

Jean nodded. 

This was going to end badly. 

Four minutes into the second half, Jean almost knocked out Neil Josten. Jeremy watched from behind the plexiglass wall, waiting for the fifteen-minute mark he'd set for himself off the court so he could go back in the game. 

Jean was getting excessively aggressive, Jeremy knew that, but the score was 8:6 by the fifteenth minute. He could live with that. 

Kevin cast a concerned look at him when Jeremy stepped on the court. Everything was fine. Everything was perfectly fine. He could control Jean. Alright, that was a lie. But he could… who was he kidding? If Jean wanted to knock players out, no one, including Jeremy, could stop the backliner. He was winning-over-fairplay, and he’d made that perfectly clear the day he started playing for the Trojans. 

Jean bodychecked Neil Josten again. So hard that the striker barely managed to keep himself on his feet. Jeremy wasn’t one to shout but enough was enough. He’d warned Jean that the Trojans wouldn’t tolerate Ravens’ bullshit. There was a reason why the team won the Day Spirit Award every year for the last nine years. They did not play like that. 

“Fucking hell, Moreau, do that shit again and you’re out!” Jeremy yelled. He was pretty sure his face was matching their uniforms. 

Jean didn’t even look at him. His eyes were focused. Dangerous. He looked between Neil and Kevin like he was planning to murder them both. 

On their next attack, Jeremy felt like everything happened in slow motion. Jean crashed into Kevin, breaking the combination he was trying to play, then turned on his heel, charged against Neil and slammed the smaller striker into the plexiglass wall. Neil slumped to the floor.

Holy shit. Someone was absolutely going to die on the court today. Andrew Minyard threw his racquet on the ground and passed by Jeremy, fuming, spewing curses and death threats. 

Kevin caught Jean’s shoulders and pushed him away from Josten. 

“Fucking asshole!” Kevin said in a voice that Jeremy had never heard before. Cold and detached, like he’d gladly put his racquet through Jean’s head. 

Jeremy gathered his composure back and skipped toward the incident point. 

He waved to Alvarez to get Thomas on the court. 

“You’re out,” Jeremy said, struggling to keep his voice level. 

Jean snorted. “Exy is a contact sport, asshole.”

“Jean. You’re done for today.”

Jean muttered something in French as he walked out of the court, not that Jeremy cared what colorful curse he was spitting out. 

Kevin looked at Jeremy with something dark in his eyes. Like regret. Like an apology. Jeremy wasn’t sure. 

The game went back to normal after that. The Trojans returned a few goals and almost won. Almost. They lost 10:9. They were so close, Jeremy still buzzed with adrenaline after the shower. 

*****

Jeremy tried to call Jean a few times after the game but the backliner ignored him. For all Kevin’s talk that Jean didn’t like being alone, he spent a spectacular amount of time ignoring Jeremy, and all Trojans in that matter. 

Jeremy’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

**Kevin [22:56]**

_ You awake? _

_Yes._

**Kevin [22:57]**

_ Can we talk somewhere? Alone.  _

_ Jean’s not here. He’s probably on one of his late-night pissy walks. _

**Kevin [22:58]**

_ Do I want to ask what late-night pissy walks are? _

_ Not really. He likes brooding. Wanna come? _

**Kevin [22:59]**

_ Be there in 5. _

In a few minutes, Kevin leaned against the doorframe, looking more than a little tipsy. It wasn’t fair how ridiculously attractive he was even when he was messed up. 

“Hey, come in. Jean’s still out,” Jeremy said. 

“Mhm. He’s pissed. He called me a few times.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t pick up. I guess I’m pissed, too.”

Kevin slumped into the cushions of the couch and put his face in his hands. 

“Probably a bad idea to ask that, but do you want a drink?” 

“Yes," Kevin muttered into his palms.

Jeremy huffed a low laugh. “That pissed, huh? I have vodka this time.”

“You don’t have to stock liquor you don’t drink on the off chance I come to California, you know?”

“And what, leave you miserable with my whiskey and a bottle of tequila?” 

Kevin frowned at the word tequila. Jeremy brought the bottle from the minifridge and poured Kevin a drink. He’d pour one for himself, too, except right at this moment, he decided getting his head fuzzy would be a horrible idea. 

“What do you want to talk about, Kev?”

“Just… anything?”

Jeremy’s eyebrow shot up. “Are you okay?”

“I broke up with Thea.”

Something like a little flutter traveled down Jeremy’s spine.

“Okay. Umm… I don’t know how to react to that cause you… I don’t know. You never talk about her. Did you… did she want it or you…”

“I wanted it. It wasn’t fair. To her and to me.”

“Because you didn’t love her?” 

Kevin looked at him from behind the rim of his glass. 

“I don’t think either of us truly loved the other. I mean… We appreciated each other, learned a lot from each other but…”

“Jean?”

Kevin took a long time sipping tiny gulps from his drink, staring in a spot on the wall. Jeremy didn’t push him. 

“I’m going to fuck everything up,” Kevin finally said. 

“You’re not fucking up anything.”

Kevin shook his head with a small, derisive smile. 

“Kev. Hey. Look at me.” Kevin shifted his gaze from the wall to Jeremy's face. “You’re not fucking up. It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand you’re scared.”

Kevin looked like a deer caught in headlights for a second. “I… I’m not scared.”

“No? So what is this about then? You know damn well that whatever you do at this point, it will not affect your future in Exy. You’re brilliant. Do we need to have this conversation again?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’ve never felt like… I mean… it’s never been like…”

“It’s cute that you can’t talk about feelings without getting hammered, really, but honestly even that isn’t helping.” Jeremy chuckled. 

“Breaking news, Jer. You make it look easy to be so… open and honest and all, but it really isn’t.”

“It takes practice, I guess.”

Kevin snorted. 

“Okay. I’ll say something embarrassing about me first, will that help?” Oh, this could turn in a bad direction. In a ‘too deep for Kevin Day’s ears’ direction. But they were friends, weren’t they? Kevin needed Jeremy, and so what if he made an idiot out of himself to help Kevin?

Kevin was looking at Jeremy, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Like there could even be something embarrassing about you.”

“Okay. You’ve been warned. The first time I had a crush on a guy, I had a major meltdown about it. I think I pretended to be straight for another six months or so. Martin, that was his name, was not having any of this bullshit, though. Honest to god, I avoided him like the plague, and the fucker just knew . Then he kissed me at a party and I… punched him.”

Kevin laughed. “ _ You _ . You punched a guy? That’s not physically possible for you.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m not all sunshine and eternal optimism.” 

Kevin pressed a hand over his mouth, caught in a fit of loud laughs. “What did the guy do?”

“What do you think? Called me an asshole and that was it. My first ever non-straight kiss ended up with me busting a guy’s lip.”

“You were right. That was embarrassing.”

“Right. Now that we’ve laughed at me, it’s your turn. Talk, Day.”

Kevin stopped laughing. His face was serious, a little nervous, and Jeremy couldn’t stop wondering if he’d ever talked like that to anyone. He’d learned by now that Kevin Day did not wear his heart on his sleeve and he wasn’t an open person, but since he brought Jean to California, something changed. It was all talks about Jean and the Ravens at the beginning, but their relationship shifted into something warmer. Real friendship. Jeremy loved it. All of it. He loved this version of Kevin more than he would ever admit out loud. It was genuine and soft, and Jeremy had the privilege to see that first hand. 

“Okay. What if I’m wrong?”

“Wrong in what way?”

“About what I feel for him. What if it’s just… Okay, here’s the thing. There was… something between us in the Nest. I never told anyone about this.”

“Well, it’s kind of obvious, you know.” There was no way people didn’t see that. 

“To you, maybe. I don’t usually let people see me like this.”

Something like a bubble of warmth popped in Jeremy’s chest. It felt so ridiculously good to be trusted. By Kevin Day, of all people. 

“So, there was something between us, and then I left and I was too focused on fear and trying to pull through, so I pushed everything I felt for him down. Back then, I wasn’t allowed to do anything about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ravens are not allowed to date.”

Jeremy blinked as if Kevin had slapped him. “What?”

“Yeah, the charms of the Nest. So yeah, he was something I wasn’t allowed to have. And now he’s here. Riko is dead. No one is standing between me and him, and I don’t know if this… if it’s real. How do you know?”

Jeremy scratched the back of his neck, suddenly tense with all the prickles that crawled across his skin. 

“I think there is someone standing between you and him.” Kevin blinked. “It’s you, idiot.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean this feels like you’re trying to sabotage yourself. What are you so scared of, really?”

“I might be wrong. This might be just what it feels like to finally be allowed to have something forbidden, and not… you know.”

Jeremy sighed. “Kev, I can’t tell you if you’re in love with him or not. You have to figure this out on your own.”

“I don’t… I don’t have anything else to compare it with.” Kevin blushed furiously. 

Jeremy would melt to the floor at the sight if his insides didn’t feel like shredded paper. 

“Then take your time, Kev. That’s the only thing you can do. Give yourself time to figure yourself out.”

“You make everything sound so simple.”

“It is simple.”

Kevin poured himself another drink. “Thank you. For that. I know you didn’t sign up for Kevin one-on-one today. I mean… we just kicked your sunshine Trojan asses.”

Jeremy laughed wetly. “You’re horrible. We’ll win next time.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“We will. If I can get our grumpy stormcloud asshole of a backliner to play like I know he can.”

“You regret it,” Kevin said matter-of-factly.

Jeremy didn’t say anything, but that was an answer enough. It wasn't regret per se. He just wasn’t sure anymore if he could help Jean. What could he do for him? Jean refused to be a part of the team, didn’t appreciate any of the Trojans’ values, didn’t even want to try. 

“I just don’t know if I can help him.”

“You can, Jeremy. If anyone can do it, it’s you.” Kevin’s voice sounded wrecked. 

“I know I promised to help, Kev, but he can’t play like that on my team. I won’t let him.”

And there it was. Was Jeremy willing to sacrifice the wellbeing of his entire team for one player, just because Kevin Day had asked him? He didn’t think he was. The Trojans were everything to Jeremy, and Jean Moreau was trying to bury them. Figuratively speaking. 

Honest to God, if the Trojans lost the Day Spirit Award, that carefully protected Trojans' tradition, because of Jean, Jeremy would rip him a new one, and screw grace and civility. 

“I know. I know. He won’t. You said it yourself, he’s been doing great. This was a minor slip back.”

Minor. Sure.

“I thought you being on the court against him might rattle him, but damn, Kev. That was…”

“It shouldn’t rattle him.”

Except, Jeremy knew there was no chance in hell Jean wouldn’t be a mess when Kevin was involved. Did Kevin really not see that? Jean was absolutely, desperately in love with Kevin, for all Jeremy could tell. 

“Did you tell him?” Jeremy said. He was about to elaborate and mention the break-up, but Kevin caught up. 

“No. I don’t want to mess with his head now. I will. Eventually.”

Mess with his head? Not what Jeremy had expected. So maybe Kevin wasn’t that oblivious about Jean’s true feelings after all. 

“Okay. It’s probably better. Wait until he stands solidly on his feet.” 

“I… I want to keep this between us for now. If… if you—”

“Kev…” Jeremy leaned back, taking in Kevin’s paled expression. “Of course. Of course, I won’t. Trust me. It won’t get out of this room.”

The sound of the lock turning cut their conversation off. Jean walked in with his stormy expression, eyes wide and murderous. 

“Jean.” Jeremy pulled all his will power into the smile he gave him. 

“Hey. I… If you want to talk about the game, I will,” Jean said.

“We’ll get to it tomorrow.” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair and pushed himself up. It sounded like an apology coming from Jean. Not that Jeremy had ever heard Jean apologize. Jeremy cleared his throat. “Right. It’s late. Kev, you can sleep on the couch if you don’t want to go back to the hotel. So umm… good night.” 

Jeremy flashed them a weak smile and shut the door to his bedroom. He pressed his back against the door. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What the actual fuck was wrong with him? He wasn’t supposed to feel like someone ripped his insides out whenever Jean and Kevin were together in the same room. 

Jeremy had been in a bad state of mind for months. He was pretty sure this messed up with his head. He heard Jean say Kevin’s name outside of his room, and the shredding in his guts was back. 

Whatever. He needed to sleep. He needed a sleeping pill to put his restless mind at ease, just this once, and sleep for a day. Or two. 

It was fine. He was just tired. Miserable for the loss. Not to mention that he hadn’t actually been with anyone in what, six month? Oh, God, he didn’t even want to count. Maybe he should call Andres. He could live through a little soccer talk. Andres was hot and had the tendency to say yes to Jeremy every time he called. 

Maybe that’s what Jeremy needed. Alright, definitely what Jeremy needed. 

He dug his sleeping pills out of the night stand drawer, grabbed the empty glass on top, then pressed his ear to the door and listened in. Nothing. It was probably safe to sneak out really quickly and get a glass of water. 

He barely stepped out of his room when he heard a sound coming from Jean’s door, like a body being slammed into it. Goddamn it. 

Kevin’s soft voice came from behind the thin door as if he was standing right in front of Jeremy. 

Jeremy froze in the middle of the room, suddenly not remembering what he came out for. 

“Listen to me,” Kevin said. “If you ever do this shit again, I’m done.”

“Kevin—” That was Jean. 

“I’m done with you, Jean. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” There was a pause. Then Jean’s loud gasp cut the silence. It was clear what was going on in there but Jeremy couldn't force his feet to move away from the spot where he was standing. Kevin’s voice came out again. “Get some sleep.”

“You can stay.”

“We’re leaving early.”

Jeremy had a second to move before the door opened and Kevin closed it nearly behind him. Their eyes met, and a little flush colored Kevin’s cheeks soft pink. 

Jeremy smiled ever so slightly waving the glass as if that was enough explanation. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Kevin smiled. “Don’t be stupid. It’s fine.” He patted Jeremy’s shoulder and headed to the door. “Good night, Jer.”

Jeremy stared at the closed door for a while before he remembered he needed water for the stupid sleeping pill. Right. Sleep. 

He felt like his shoulder was burning. Right where Kevin had touched him. The heat digging a hole through his skin, right down to his bones. Jeremy walked to the table where the vodka bottle marked a wet circle on the wooden surface. He took a long draft directly from the bottle, fished his phone out his pocket and texted Andres.

It was all totally fine. Jeremy just had to put his head back together.

###  ~~~~~~~

Watching the coffee drip from the coffee maker was Jeremy’s idea of therapy. It was the middle of December, two days before the Christmas banquet. This year, PSU hosted the event. 

Kevin had been growing more and more anxious the last month. It was in the muffled tremble in his voice when he spoke, in the long pauses he took before he said anything, and Jeremy pretended he didn’t hear it. There wasn’t a thing he could do to help Kevin. It felt like a punch in the stomach every time he thought about it, but he knew the only person who could dissolve the storm above Kevin’s head was the french idiot sitting on the couch, typing furiously on his cell phone. 

Jeremy focused on the coffee drip. He still couldn’t figure out why he was so annoyed at Jean. It didn’t make fucking sense. Yes, the backliner was a complete pain in the ass, and Jeremy wanted to punch him more often than he’d ever admit, but he was  _ good _ . So damn good, the Trojans were on fire with him in the backline. It wasn’t like Jean hadn’t changed at all. He had. He was softer and more cautious in his words, but the man was still grumpy, downright hostile at times, and in all honesty, Jeremy couldn’t see a way to reach him. He wasn’t a fucking wizard. As much as he wanted to pull out the Jean that Kevin insisted lived under that thick coating of a storm cloud, he wasn’t sure he could crack the walls. Kevin had called Jean loyal and kind and passionate. Well, sure, he was passionate about Exy, but that was all about it. He’d built a wall between Jeremy and himself, and it didn’t matter how hard Jeremy tried to push through—Jean never gave ground. He did not like Jeremy. At all. No, scratch that—he hated Jeremy. The backliner didn’t even try to hide his resentment toward the Trojans’ captain. And God, Jeremy tried. Really, really tried. He’d promised he would help Jean and he’d be damned if he gave up so easily. 

It didn’t make sense. Jeremy had always been kind to Jean. Except for this one time he slammed Neil Josten into the wall. Alright, and this other time he shouted at Alvarez because of her ‘sloppy footwork’. But those were legit reasons, it wasn’t like Jeremy was out of line. He didn’t get it. Everyone liked Jeremy. What the hell was Jean Moreau’s fucking problem with him?

Jeremy almost jumped when Jean slammed his phone into the coffee table. He turned to look at the backliner expecting fury to burn in his eyes. Instead, his face looked like he was about to cry. That was new. 

“Sorry,” Jean said, his voice breaking a little.

“Kevin?” Jeremy guessed. 

Jean shrugged. Oh, fuck it. Kevin was his friend. Jean was… well, something like an inherited friend-in-progress, or so he hoped. He owed that much to Kevin. He wasn’t going to leave those two complete idiots to destroy themselves because they couldn’t communicate like normal human beings. 

“Want to talk about it?” Jeremy poured coffee in his mug, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal. 

Jean shifted in his spot on the couch, ran a hand over his face and God, he was seriously going to cry. It punched the air out of Jeremy’s lungs. He’d never seen Jean so on edge before. 

“Is there anything going on between you two?” Jean stared at Jeremy like the air had frozen in his lungs, eyes rimmed red and hazy and so, so lost. 

Jeremy froze. What the… This… This was what all this shit was about? He could place a lot of words to Jean Moreau, but  _ jealous  _ wasn’t one of them. 

“Is this a serious question?” Jeremy said. 

“I… No. Yes. I don’t know. I just can’t understand…You and Kev are close and I… He keeps shutting me out. I can’t think of... I just want to know.”

Jeremy pulled out a second mug and poured coffee in it. Black, no sugar. He walked over to Jean, placed the mug in front of him and sat next to him.

“Jean.” Jeremy rolled the words around his tongue. He knew the weight of what he’d say next could crush the backliner, so he had to pick the words carefully. He could back out of this and leave Jean tripping. This was none of his business. He chose the high-road, instead. “I won’t pretend to understand what you and Kevin are to each other. But it’s important to Kevin and it’s important to you, so that makes it important to me. Kev and I are friends. I trust him. He trusts me. Why do you think he wanted you on this team?”

Jean looked uncomfortable. Good. That made two of them. “Because we couldn’t play on the same court together, and no one else wanted me.”

Jeremy laughed. “Right. No one else wanted one of the best backliners in Class I. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Some things outweigh skills.”

Well, damn. At least Jean wasn’t delusional about his shortcomings. Jeremy hadn’t expected that. The backliner always seemed so solid, so sure of his own ways, that Jeremy didn’t really think Jean saw his behavior as problematic even when it was. 

“Well, that wasn’t the case. Kevin insisted you joined the Trojans because he thought it would help you. And I trust his judgment. I can see now he was right. You’re not the same person who came here in the summer, Jean. I hope you can see that, too.”

It was true. Partly. 

Jean took a shaky breath. “I just… I’m sorry.”

“You have a hell of a habit apologizing when it’s not necessary.” Jeremy took a sip of coffee. “And vice versa.” He wasn’t going to mention that the lack of apologizing when needed was predominant. 

Jean tipped his head back on the couch. He looked  _ miserable _ . Jesus, was Jeremy supposed to do everything for those two?

“Talk to him, Jean,” he said, glad that his voice sounded solid. A complete opposite of what his insides felt like at the request. 

Jean cocked his head to look at him. “I did.”

“When? Months ago?” Jeremy huffed a laugh. “A lot of things can change in a few months.”

“Not that. That can’t change. And what difference does it make? He’s still involved with Thea. In case you’ve forgotten that.”

Oh. So they still hadn’t talked about this. Jeremy knew damn well that he shouldn’t get involved in this. Trying to get Jean and Kevin together felt like he was burning a hole in his stomach, but that was a problem to dissect another day. Underneath the dread, there was one thing, really, that he had to consider. 

Kevin was Jeremy’s friend. Jeremy cared about Kevin. Kevin was miserable, Jean was miserable, and it was a whole shitshow of misery and enough was fucking enough. 

Jeremy loved his friends. He’d do anything for them. Even though sometimes it hurt, but that was a burden he could carry as long as they were happy. 

He stood up and patted Jean’s shoulder. “Is he?” He took a long pause and gave Jean a meaningful look, hoping he’d catch the hint. “Talk to him, Jean. This … This is scary. Especially for someone like Kev. You know where he wants to be, and he’s scared he’ll screw it up. He’s  _ scared _ .”

Too much. He’d said too much. But considering Kevin and Jean were both idiots, he had to do it.

“What if… What if he still doesn’t…” Jean ran a hand over his face.

“Here’s how I see it. It’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll say no. But if you don’t ask, it’s a hundred percent. I like your odds.”

“Kev’s right you know. You’re a fucking embodiment of sunshine. It’s infuriating.” 

Jeremy threw his head back and laughed. Of course, Kevin would say something ridiculous like that. “Thanks.” 

He left Jean to his thoughts and locked himself in his bedroom nursing his coffee in silence. 

*

On the day of the Christmas banquet, Kevin indulged Jeremy in a short Foxes practice. Jeremy had no idea why the striker had agreed but he didn’t really care. It was  _ fun _ !

Jeremy loved the Christmas banquet. Well, he loved everything that resembled a party, but everyone put extra effort to look presentable for the Christmas banquet and he loved it. 

He was already four whiskeys in when Kevin found him. The alcohol in Jeremy’s system effectively shut down the filter between his brain and his mouth, and that was a problem because Kevin Day looked like… God, he was ridiculously attractive on a normal day, but Kevin in a dark green dress shirt that matched his eyes with a loose collar and gorgeously tousled hair was a sight that sent Jeremy’s pulse in the sky. 

“What are you trying to do, Kev, give the fans a heart attack?” Jeremy gestured at Kevin’s overall appearance. 

Kevin choked on a laugh. An almost invisible blush crawled up his cheeks. 

“I can pull off clothes that aren’t an Exy uniform.”

“Oh, yes, you can, and how.” God, Jeremy needed to shut the fuck up. 

Kevin laughed loudly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you tipsy before.”

“You’re probably the only one. You, on the other hand, look…”

“Bored?”

Stunning. Ravishing. Drop-dead gorgeous. 

“Sober. You look sober.”

“I am.” Kevin shook his glass, rattling the ice cubes together. “It’s just water.”

“Should I worry?” Jeremy grinned.

“It’s fine. I have to talk to Jean and I prefer to do it with my head clear. But I’m still growing a pair, I guess.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Kevin Day?”

Kevin chuckled. “I wanted to say thank you. For putting up with my… with me.”

Jeremy patted his shoulder. “Kev, you really don’t have to. I didn’t do anything. You had to figure things out for yourself and I listened, that’s all. But it was all you who did the work. I’m just glad you’re better.”

“I am.”

Everything went a little hazy after that. 

Jeremy downed a few more whiskey shots, watching Kevin and Jean make eyes at each other from across the hall. The haze thickened and in a moment that almost ripped through Jeremy’s chest, he saw Kevin pull Jean closer and kiss him. Right there in the middle of the fucking hall. It wasn’t a small, chaste one; it was desperate and deep, hands in Jean’s hair, and the backliner was kissing him just the same, neither of them caring about the pointed looks and whispers that roared around the hall at the sight. 

Jeremy switched to tequila after that. 

He woke up in the morning with a headache, vaguely remembering where he was. Right. Kevin’s dorm. Kevin’s fucking bed. The pillow smelled of Kevin, something sweet, earthy and musky and so devastatingly  _ Kevin _ , Jeremy wanted to wrap himself in the scent. 

He remembered the text Jean had sent to him last night:  _ please sleep in Laila’s room or something, thx _ . Jeremy had tried to look totally cool with it texting back something about breaking beds and winking faces. Whatever. 

He didn’t remember saying anything about Kevin or Jean to the Foxes when he'd found their table later; just Neil’s voice through the haze saying he could crash in their dorm. 

Jeremy’s phone buzzed under his pillow. Kevin’s name on the screen jolted him out of dreamland faster than a cold shower. 

“Hey, Kev, everything okay?”

Kevin’s voice sounded like a purr in his ear. “Yeah. Just a heads up, Jean’s gonna stay a couple more days so he’s not flying with you guys.”

Bile rose up to Jeremy’s throat. Shit, tequila was a mistake. “Um, sure, yeah. Okay.”

“You okay? You sound wrecked.”

“Mhm. Had a date with Miss Tequila and it went too far.”

Kevin laughed. “Ah, shit. Please tell me you didn’t throw up on my bed.”

“How d’you know where I am?”

“Neil texted me.”

“Right. And no, I didn’t throw up on your bed. But I’m going through your nightstand drawer later. Might find blackmail material.” Jeremy forced a weak laugh. 

“Good luck with that. I’m as boring as it gets. But there’s an aspirin bottle. Treat yourself.”

Jeremy did. And as Kevin claimed, there was nothing embarrassing in his drawer. Not even condoms. Muscle pain cream. Aspirin. A charger. 

Through the haze of the headache and fighting a losing battle with nausea, it hit Jeremy that his reaction to the whole Jean thing was a bit over the line, and not at all how a decent friend would react. Well, he’d been great with Kevin, but this wasn’t how he felt at all. 

Fucking hell. How did he get here? No. It was all wrong to feel like that, and he knew it.

There was something dark and bitter crawling under his skin. Jeremy swallowed hard. He wasn’t going to be that person. So, alright, maybe—and that was giant, fat  _ maybe  _ —he had a tiny crush on Kevin. But it wasn’t a real thing. It was more like… Jeremy tried a few words in his head until he settled for admiration. Yes, that was it. Admiration. 

And maybe a little bit of jealousy that someone was taking away from Kevin’s attention because Kevin was Jeremy’s  _ friend _ . Someone he respected and admired. The word sounded just about right.

By the time his plane took off to California, Jeremy had repeated those words to himself a hundred times and they were true. He believed them. 

He was happy for Kevin. If Kevin was happy, so was Jeremy.

Jeremy was perfectly fine. He had to be.

**~~~~~~~**

On 1st January, Jeremy Knox woke up with a giddy feeling bubbling under his skin. It was  _ the  _ year. The year when he got to graduate, play his last championship with the Trojans, hopefully win said championship, get drafted in a professional Exy team, pick a team, choose a future. 

It was going to be stellar and Jeremy wasn’t letting a thing screw up his year. 

Right?

Right.

**January 12th**

Jeremy woke up at 3 AM, shaking and sweating with a nasty cold. He changed into a clean shirt, wrapped himself in a blanket and dragged his feet to the kitchen for a glass of water, a handful of vitamins and a pill for the fever.

His head spun so badly he barely made it to the sink without bumping into something on the way. And then he heard it, a low, sweeter-than-honey moan coming from Jean’s bedroom. There were hushed whispers and loud gasps and Kevin’s unmistakable velvet voice, dragging out Jean’s name like a prayer, only Jeremy had never heard it like this before. Another moan, a gorgeous drawn-out sound that made Jeremy weak in the knees. He rushed to his room and buried himself in blankets, pressing his head into his pillow, and counted constellations until he erased Kevin’s pleasure-soaked voice from his mind. 

**February 22nd**

Jean Moreau was a nervous mess in the locker room in Evermore before the game against the Ravens. Jeremy didn’t want to lose, not at all, but putting Jean on the court wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. No win was worth an emotional breakdown and by the looks of it, Jean was seconds from it. 

He’d been like this since last night. Kevin had called Jeremy with his voice shaking, asking him to keep an eye on Jean and not let him be alone. And Jeremy had. But there was no way in hell Jean could handle playing against the Ravens. 

Ten minutes before the game, Jeremy’s phone buzzes in his locker. Kevin. 

Jeremy took the call. 

“Hey, Jer, can you get me in?”

“In where?”

“Lockers room, where else?”

Jeremy huffed a laugh. “Wait, you’re here?”

“Jeremyyy.”

“Fine, yes, yes, I can. Where are you?”

“Front gate.”

Jeremy looked over his shoulder to Jean. The backliner was staring at the floor, not caring about anything that happened around him. He was shivering. None of the Trojans was going to bring it up. 

Jeremy jogged to the front gate and nodded to the guard to let Kevin inside. 

“Hey, good to see you, Kev. You didn’t say you were coming.”

Kevin ran a hand over his face. “I wasn’t going to. But he’s falling apart. I barely convinced him over the phone last night to stay in the room and not go outside. I should’ve known he couldn’t take it. You know… being on Evermore again, it brings a lot back.”

Jeremy knew he was right. Jean was falling to pieces and nothing could put him back together. But Kevin… Kevin might be the only person who could. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jeremy wrapped an arm around Kevin’s shoulder. “Oh, and happy birthday.”

Kevin smiled but it was shadowed and dark. Jeremy wished he could do more. 

He let Kevin first in the locker room. The effect his presence had on Jean was immediate on the backliner’s face. His eyes grew wide for a second, then relief flooded his features. The rest of the Trojans looked at the scene unspooling before them as if it was a little miracle. And maybe it was. None of them had seen Jean like that before. Vulnerability wasn’t a thing Jean Moreau put out in the open, but Kevin was kneeling in front of him, one hand on the back of Jean’s neck, the other cupping his cheek, and Jean’s face was wet with tears he couldn’t hold back. 

Kevin wiped his cheeks with his thumbs and pulled Jean down pressing their foreheads together. 

“You’re okay. You’re safe here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?” Kevin whispered against Jean’s lips. 

Jean nodded. His breaths were shaky and shallow. He was losing it. Jeremy couldn’t let him on that court like this. 

“Jean.” Kevin held Jean’s face between his palms and kissed him. 

Jeremy was staring. Goddamn it, he shouldn’t be looking at this.

It was so soft and open and vulnerable. He didn’t have the right to watch this and yet he couldn’t look away. He caught Laila staring at him with a smug smile. 

“I can’t do this,” Jean whispered. 

“Yes, you can. You can. He’s fucking dead, Jean. You can’t keep letting his ghost haunt you. You can do this. Don’t let them win. You’re better than this, mon coeur.”

Jean mumbled something in French and Kevin ran his hand through his hair with a wet laugh. Kevin kept talking in French and every word brought Jean back to the real world. Whatever nightmare ate at him dissolved into thin air with Kevin’s words and his hands holding his face. 

Jeremy’s stomach was knotted in a tight ball. It didn’t make sense. He should be happy Jean was fine, that he could play and they had an actual chance to beat the Ravens. Then what the hell was that? 

By the time the first buzzer went off, he had a word in his head and he hated himself for it. Jealousy was an ugly, useless feeling, and he had no goddamn right to feel it. Not when it came to Kevin. Kevin wasn’t his. Was never going to be. They were  _ friends,  _ for God’s sake!

They won the game. Jeremy couldn’t care less. 

**May 23rd**

The final buzzer went off. The numbers on the scoreboard flashed in beautiful golden color. 12:11. 

They won.

The Trojans won the Championship. 

Jeremy pressed a hand over his mouth pushing down something that might have been a sob. He was suddenly embraced by his teammates, shouting his name. He’d scored in the last seconds of the game. Even Moreau patted his shoulder with a large grin on his face. 

Jeremy swam through the haze, went to shake hands with the Foxes and the whole time, he was looking for Kevin’s eyes. 

When he finally got to him, Kevin had a warm wide smile on his face and not a trace of bitterness. 

“You crazy bastard,” Kevin said. 

Jeremy laughed. His cheeks were wet. “Told you we’d win next time.”

“You did.” Kevin pulled him in a tight hug that sent Jeremy’s heart in his throat. “Congratulations, Jer.” Kevin’s breath brushed his ear. “I bet my ass the pros are going to fight over you like you’re the last piece of candy.”

Jeremy laughed breathlessly well aware that all those times he’d repeated in his head that this is simply friendship didn’t mean shit, not when Kevin talked in his ear like that, not when it turned his insides into slush. 

**December 21st**

Jeremy loved his new team. The Atlanta Hawks were amazing. Top of the championship, a solid line-up, a place for Jeremy to grow. 

Picking a team so close to PSU was a coincidence. It really was. The Hawks offered Jeremy the best deal, that was the real reason. But he wasn’t going to complain that he was closer to Palmetto. Not at all. 

Jeremy had spent quite a while sorting out his feelings and settled (yet, again) that what he felt for Kevin was deep friendship, laced with even deeper admiration. That was all of it. 

He was going to die on this hill. 

No, seriously. He was completely over his little college crush. He even dated. Daniel Walsh, a backliner for the Hawks. It was going just fine. 

Currently, Jeremy sat in a bar downtown, with Kevin and Daniel, drying up a fourth glass of whiskey, while Kevin talked about the new Foxes recruits. 

He’d come to buy a car from a dealership and stayed for the night to meet Jeremy. 

It was well past midnight when Daniel left the bar and it was just Jeremy and Kevin. 

Talking about college was so easy. It was a comfort zone, a warm fluffy cloud of happiness Jeremy loved to float onto. 

There was something wrong. He could tell by the way Kevin dried up a glass after another, and didn’t care to pace himself. But he kept repeating he was fine and Jeremy wasn’t going to pester him about it. No one could force Kevin to talk about feelings unless he wanted to. 

An hour later, Jeremy half-led half-dragged Kevin through the corridor to his apartment. 

“Mm Jer, thisin’t my room.”

Jeremy struggled to get the keys out of his pocket. “I know. You’re in Atlanta, remember?”

“Oh. Right. Like Atlanaa. Smells like rain.”

Jeremy laughed. Finally, the door was open, and Jeremy pushed Kevin toward the bedroom. He let Kevin lean against the dresser by himself. Surprisingly, he didn’t fall. 

“Are you going to be fine from here? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay.” Jeremy walked past Kevin, pulled a blanket out and threw it on the bed. “Extra blanket.”

Kevin looked at him intensely. It drew sweat on the back of Jeremy’s neck. Kevin started unbuttoning his shirt with clumsy hands, and it was almost sad to look at him like that. Kevin whined when he couldn't push a button through a hole. 

“Oh my God, let me.” Jeremy stepped closer and unbuttoned Kevin’s shirt. He wasn't staying in this room a second longer. Not when Kevin was about to stand in front of him shirtless. Fuck no. 

Jeremy opened a drawer in the dresser and pulled a shirt out. “You can take this one.”

And right before he could step back and walk out, Kevin was pulling him in, hands on his waist and eyes burning on him. Jeremy’s head buzzed into static. 

Kevin ran a thumb over Jeremy’s lower lip, drawing a shivery breath out of him. 

“Kev.”

Kevin pressed his hand on the back of Jeremy’s neck, pulling him so close, the heat between them was unbearable. Kevin’s head was buried against Jeremy’s neck, and then he was whispering in his ear in a honeyed voice, “God, you’re gorgeous.”

He kissed Jeremy's neck and bit into the sensitive skin, effectively erasing every sober thought out of his head. Jeremy raked his fingers through Kevin’s hair and for a moment forgot everything. 

When Kevin’s lips moved downward, Jeremy sobered up in a split second. 

“Kev.” He pushed Kevin away and that might have been the hardest thing he’d done in his life. “Kevin.”

Kevin finally looked up at him. 

“How about you sleep it off.”

Kevin swayed a little. “Mhm. You smell like cedar.”

He clumsily climbed in the bed and passed out the second his head hit the pillow. 

Jeremy stayed for another few minutes, gathering his soul back into his body. All right. So… Objectively, this wasn’t how anyone should feel when their extremely intoxicated friend made a move on them. Not if they were really _just friends_. 

He needed to put a stop to this before it fucked him up completely. 

He was going to stop. 

Kevin meant too much to him to let something like that fuck up their friendship. 

Jeremy would be damned if he let that happen. 


End file.
